<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ground Control by InkgooSupernova</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449317">Ground Control</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkgooSupernova/pseuds/InkgooSupernova'>InkgooSupernova</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Winter System [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Astronauts, Bucky Barnes has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, Claustrophobia, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, HYDRA Trash Party, Isolation, Medical Trauma, Other, Physical Abuse, Science Experiments, Sensory Deprivation, Solitary Confinement, Vomiting, Wetting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:21:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkgooSupernova/pseuds/InkgooSupernova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He could handle when the machine began spinning him in dizzying circles. They were slow and felt oddly familiar, causing an exhilarated thrill to claw through his veins. He could almost enjoy the pressure of high gravitational force pressing against his skull.</p><p>But that was four hours ago.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Winter System [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dizzying Thrill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story takes the idea of the Soldier being used to test various dangerous key elements of early space travel during the 1960s.</p><p>This story features graphic depictions of vomiting, wetting, medical torture, psychological abuse, and physical abuse.</p><p>Reader Discretion is Advised.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Soldier groaned as the machine whirred to a halt.</p><p>"That's seven Gs, increasing to eight." A scientist called out as a doctor shined a flashlight into his eyes. He couldn't tell if the voices speaking were English or Russian.</p><p>He felt like he was going to puke.</p><p>The guards had dragged the Soldier from his cell and strapped him into a chair inside of a strange, gyroscopic device. He could handle when the machine began spinning him in dizzying circles. They were slow and felt oddly familiar, causing an exhilarated thrill to claw through his veins. He could almost enjoy the pressure of high gravitational force pressing against his skull.</p><p>But that was four hours ago.</p><p>His stomach began to twist painfully at five Gs of force. His sight began to fall to tunnel vision at six. His vision began to black out at seven.</p><p>He bit down against the mouth guard shoved between his teeth as the machine whirred to life yet again, sending him into a horrible tumble that left his back shoved painfully into the chair he was strapped to.</p><p>He could feel saliva pooling beneath his tongue as his vision faded to a muddy black, speckled with odd static, vague shapes, and unearthly colors. He could finally feel himself slipping into the sweet, merciful relief of unconsciousness.</p><p>By the time the Soldier came to, he was no longer tumbling in space, instead sitting in the chair he was strapped to as the doctor once again pierced his eyes with the blinding flashlight.</p><p>The first sense he could recognize was the twisted, burning ache in his guts. The dull pain of threatening sickness overwhelming his senses.</p><p>He tried desperately to spit out the mouth guard that his impossibly sharp cuspids were currently stabbed into, though his attempts proved fruitless.</p><p>His body lurched forward with the strength of his diaphragm spasming, forcefully ejecting what little stomach contents he had through his esophagus and, with nowhere else to go, out through his nasal passage. He couldn't help the gurgled scream as the sick burning sensation ripped through his sinuses.</p><p>
  <i>He felt like he was drowning.</i>
</p><p>"Shit!" The doctor barked before yanking the guard from his mouth, sending a painful shock down his spine as his precious implanted weapons reacted to the aggressive treatment.</p><p>The pain combined with the heavy lead ball in his stomach forced him into another bout of regurgitation, this time, thankfully, through his mouth and onto his still restrained lap. He coughed as the pungent, acidic fluid burned his tongue, setting the back of his throat on fire to match the rest of his skull. He couldn't <i>dare</i> to take in a breath in risk of redirecting the sick into his lungs.</p><p>"That's eight Gs, increasing to nine." The scientist called out as the doctor shoved the guard back between his now sick-soiled lips.</p><p>
  <i>No.</i>
</p><p>He had already passed out. He had already vomited. What <i>more</i> could they want from him?</p><p>The Soldier didn't have time to ponder that question, however, as the machine whirred to life once again. The best he could do was clench down and pray for the torture to be over soon.</p><p>That soon failed as he felt the burning chime of his stomach invade his throat once more, forcing its way through his nasal cavity once again as the machine spun him in a violent circle. He couldn't even react as a stray splatter of disturbing fluid hit him in the eye from the machine's brutal treatment, leaving him blinded in one eye as the other began to fade to black.</p><p>He couldn't even take solace in the embrace of unconsciousness as it wrapped its sinewy tentacles around his being.</p><p>He awoke in a lab, his arms and legs strapped tight to the metal slab he was laying on. The first thing he noticed was the bitter, unbearable taste of stale sick that clung to his mouth, followed by the way his sinuses burned like a lit match dropped into gunpowder. After that, he noticed the horrible pounding in his head, a sharp, banging throb that seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat. After <i>that</i>, he noticed he could only see through his right eye, his left completely black and seemingly covered by a bandage, feeling as if the organ was the size of a baseball and on fire. Infection.</p><p>Finally, he noticed the doctors in the room with him.</p><p>"Good morning, Soldier." He still couldn't tell if the language was English or Russian. "We are deeply disappointed with your results from the Aerotrim, on top of your shameful display of weakness. Your failures have been recorded and you will be punished as such."</p><p>The Soldier could feel his body tense at the words. <i>Failure.</i> He had <i>failed.</i></p><p>"Understood." The Soldier responded.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Indoctrination and Destabilization</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After the Soldier's shameful display during the positive G-force training, his body was forced into a device that looked similar to a shirt, but with sleeves that were far too long and covered in buckles and straps. The doctors strapped the sleeves behind his back, forcing his arms into an almost painful, uncomfortable self-hug. His arms were already starting to go numb as the doctors led him to a tiny, cylinder shaped room.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>How long had it been?</p><p>After the Soldier's shameful display during the positive G-force training, his body was forced into a device that looked similar to a shirt, but with sleeves that were far too long and covered in buckles and straps. The doctors strapped the sleeves behind his back, forcing his arms into an almost painful, uncomfortable self-hug. His arms were already starting to go numb as the doctors led him to a tiny, cylinder shaped room.</p><p>He counted the minutes for the first five hours before losing his train of thought. He could barely think as the pain in his infected, covered eye clawed through his skull. He could barely focus on the loss of feeling in his flesh arm or the way the seam of his metal arm pulled on his shoulder's flesh. He wanted <i>desperately</i> to scratch at his eye, to alleviate the unbearable itching that drove him insane.</p><p>That's where he found himself, sitting in this room, writhing as his body was assaulted with the invisible talons of infection and torture.</p><p>This was a test. It had to be.</p><p>He knew all too well that he could break through his holds, shred the device that bound him and scratch away the pins and needles stabbing their way through his painfully swollen eye. </p><p>But as payment for his misbehavior, he would be severely punished. Hydra did not appreciate indiscretions such as disloyalty and disobedience. They had put him in this device for a reason.</p><p>
  <i>Restraint.</i>
</p><p>So, despite the way the sweltering, stinging pain of his eyes tore away at what little sanity remained in his skull, he would not fail.</p><p>Not again.</p><p>The Soldier tried counting the minutes again, unsure of where to start. The room had no windows, no clocks, no method of measuring time. He couldn't even scratch into the walls to keep track of where he had already counted. He felt exhausted, but that was no indication as to whether it way day or night, as he was almost perpetually exhausted. He could handle this punishment. He had been punished worse than this.</p><p>That was, until the walls began to slowly, ever so slowly, turn.</p><p>It had to be his brain playing tricks on him, the sensory deprivation and isolation forcing a nonreality upon him. That only occurred after at least five days of solitary confinement for him. Had it already been five days? Had he slept at all?</p><p>He watched as the walls slowly turned, his own mind betraying him for his defiance against his beloved Hydra. They gifted him food, he repaid them by rejecting it all over himself. They gifted him health, he repaid them by becoming infected. They gifted him intelligence, he repaid them by disobeying and misbehaving.</p><p>He deserved this.</p><p>The walls began to spin faster, which is when he realized that the walls <i>and</i> the floor were moving, spinning him along with them as he sat. He could only tell how fast he was spinning by the way the nausea found its way into his stomach yet again. He would not fail again, not this time.</p><p>Was he really moving? Was his stomach conspiring with his brain to punish him for his misdeeds? Rooms didn't spin. No punishment cell had ever really spun before. It was only his psyche punishing him. It <i>had</i> to be.</p><p>Yet the burning, queasy feeling in his stomach stayed.</p><p>He tried to lean his head back, to close is eyes and make the spinning go away. That only succeeded in worsening the nauseating twist of his stomach. His own body was punishing him for using it to betray his precious Hydra.</p><p>He sat for an eternity, grinding his teeth to keep the swell of sick at bay, the walls ever spinning around him, mocking him in their ability to move while he could only sit motionless.</p><p>The burning, swollen, stinging feeling in his covered eye made itself known once again at the worst possible time, yanking an overwhelmed, frightened scream from the Soldier's chest. Even his own lungs were conspiring against him, showing the whole world how much of a weak <i>failure</i> he was by providing his pain with a voice.</p><p>"STOP!" The Soldier cried out, struggling against his restraints, knowing all too well that his brain would not allow him to disobey Hydra again by breaking through the fabric. "PLEASE MAKE IT <i>STOP!</i>"</p><p>His pathetic attempts at emotional manipulation went unheard, the walls ever mocking, demons dancing around him as the siren song of his suffering clawed through his lungs.</p><p>This had to be a test. It <i>had</i> to be.</p><p>He closed his remaining, uninfected eye in a desperate bid to escape the torture, seeing only fire and distorted faces through his lids as the nausea surged like a tidal wave in his guts.</p><p>He cried out forever, the world around him ever spinning on an axis of torment.</p><p>The room stopped spinning.</p><p>The Soldier couldn't tell how long it had been since the room stopped spinning, his body wracked with hiccuping sobs. Leftovers of his shameful display of weakness and fear.</p><p>The door he had long forgotten he entered through opened, two doctors and three guards on the other side.</p><p>"Seven hours and thirty-five minutes." One of the doctors announced as the guards pulled the Soldier from the hell they had put him through. It had only been seven hours? "Get him out of the jacket and into the holding cell, the human subjects aren't ready for the next test yet."</p><p>Human subjects. He would be forced to work with humans next.</p><p>He was not a human.</p><p>His arms fell to his sides, useless, as the guards removed the device from his body, leaving him naked and cold in the damp holding cell.</p><p>Hydra had gifted him a room that would not spin and a cot to rest his heavy, aching body. He will repay them by behaving. He will repay them by being good.</p><p>He will obey.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter explores the ways Hydra destabilized Bucky into obeying while also testing the amount of stress and the effects of the Coriolis effect on his body. Sort of a cross between MK Ultra and early Space Travel developments, both of which happened roughly around the same time in history.</p><p>The Soldier was dressed in a straitjacket and placed in a <a href="https://www.nasa.gov/vision/space/livinginspace/23jul_spin.html">Spinning Room</a>, an early space travel training device.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Notes:</p><p>Any behaviors related to DID or Autism Spectrum Neurodivergency within this story are based on <b>personal experiences</b> and are not a scientific basis or professional explanation for either DID systems or Autism Spectrum Neurodivergency. No two people, let alone no two systems, are exactly the same.</p><p>Kudos and Comments are always appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>